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“I want you to meet someone.”

  “Really? Because what I want to do right now is head straight for your hotel room.”

  She gave me a sly smile and dragged me towards a space hidden in a corner behind the stage. A space full of guys lounging around, drinking beers, and a couple of girls who didn’t look to have been invited for their witty conversation.

  Shawn was talking to one of those girls and she was hanging on his every word. His gaze shot to Cassie as soon as we turned the corner and my arm shot around her shoulders in a split second.

  “Hey, Cass! Have you recovered?”

  “That was pretty special.” Her eyes ping-ponged between Shawn and me. “I know you’ve met Josh before but I want to introduce him properly.”

  I extended my arm and we shook hands. We didn’t let it linger too long.

  “Is that the first time the two of you have performed it?”

  “Cassie came to me with the lyrics a couple of weeks ago.” He took a swig of his beer. The girl gave up and moved onto her next target. “Then we collaborated on the melody. The crowd loved it, don’t you think?”

  Cassie rolled on her toes. She buzzed with excitement and it finally got to me. I deserved a kick in the ass. She was happy. Whether I had something to do with that happiness or not, it didn’t matter. I was happy for her. With her. The way she then looked up at me all expectantly was my undoing.

  “Well done, Cass.” My hand slid along the nape of her neck and I pulled her towards me. I simply kissed her forehead.

  “And that’s just the beginning.” Shawn leaned closer to us as if he was about to share a secret. “Hopefully I can use it for my first album. I’d love Cassie to sing it with me but I’m not the one making the decision.” Another swig at his beer. “I’m not yet the master of the universe.”

  Cassie’s gaze was glued to me like a kid praised by her teacher at parents night. Lucas’s face flashed through my mind. The first time we played football together, the first time I’d met him back in the Sorensons’ house. He’d been all proud of himself after a good throw and he’d looked just like Cassie now.

  “Well done,” I repeated. Words failed me.

  My cell vibrated in the back pocket of my jeans. It’d been doing that ever since I’d landed and I knew I couldn’t keep ignoring the new voicemail. I checked the screen but didn’t recognize the cell number. It was a Kansas City number though.

  “Sorry, guys. Give me a minute.”

  I stepped back and left Cassie chatting with Mr. Rock-God. I felt slightly less edgy about him. Maybe the guy was less of a player than I thought. I brought the phone to my ear and tried to ignore the noise surrounding me. I thought it might be Curtis clocking some extra hours on a Saturday night. But it wasn’t. It was Trisha.

  By the time the message finished my stomach weighed a ton and so did my heart. Cassie was still chatting with Shawn. Shawn was staring at me now with a frown. He’d guessed correctly that whatever the call was about, it wasn’t good news.

  I walked back over to them. Cassie kept chatting away about how it’d felt on stage minutes before. For once I didn’t listen to what she was saying. Shawn answered her but he wasn’t focused either. He kept throwing sideways glances at me.

  I hadn’t let myself digest the pain the news had caused inside me. My brain was playing catch-up and whirled around in search of the best way to express itself.

  Finally, silence froze the space between the three of us. Cassie’s gaze zeroed in on me. I hated how my words would kill the light in her eyes.

  “What’s up?” she asked in one word.

  The words stalled inside my mouth.

  “What’s up, Josh?” She didn’t give me the choice.

  “Let’s go somewhere private.”

  “No, tell me why you look like shit suddenly. Tell me now.”

  I swallowed hard. “Cass, Trisha left a voicemail while I was on the plane. It’s about Mr. Guidi... Alfredo... he passed away in his sleep.”

  Her happy face broke into thousands of unhappy ones.

  “When?”

  “Two days ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “His heart gave up.”

  I expected Cassie to crumble. She’d lost her gran three months ago. Mr. Guidi had filled some of the void left in her heart. She swayed on her feet for a second or two, but then straightened with a jerk of her neck.

  “Does Lucas know?”

  “He was told yesterday. Trisha says he didn’t take it well.”

  “He didn’t take it well?” She let out a bitter chuckle. “Lucas has now lost the only family he had left. So, no, I guess he didn’t take it that well. Who told him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cassie was already somewhere else mentally. Shawn didn’t exist anymore. I didn’t exist anymore.

  “Is there a direct flight from Phoenix to Kansas City?”

  I was about to answer with another ‘I don’t know’ but I bit my tongue. Instead I got my smartphone out and kicked the Internet into action. “It might be quicker to get on the first plane out of here and connect on from there.”

  She moved to my side and together we roamed around airline websites.

  “There!” Her index finger pointed at the screen. “We’ll have to connect in L.A, but if we leave Phoenix before dawn, we could be with Lucas by midday.”

  I nodded and started to book the tickets when Shawn cut in. “What about the gig in Vegas tomorrow night?”

  Cassie was still part of the tour for another two weeks, but if anything qualified as an emergency, it was this.

  She stiffened and turned to Shawn. “I’m sorry. Lucas, my son, needs me. I can’t leave him on his own.”

  Shawn shifted position on the edge of the table he’d been sitting on. “Cassie, this isn’t going to fly with Terry. You’re already stepping in for someone who had to bail.” He ran his hand through his hair. “What am I going to say to Will?”

  “What’s the deal with Will?” I addressed my question to Cassie.

  The corner of her eyes creased. A shrug of her shoulders and it went away. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Will’s flying in from L.A. tomorrow to discuss the album,” said Shawn. “I want him to see Cassie and me perform Sweet Second on stage. I’ll need him onboard to push the duet to the record company.”

  Things had gone faster than I’d expected for Cassie. Apparently, the duet wasn’t a castle in the air. It could be the real deal.

  I stared down at the flight details on the tiny screen, and then checked on Cassie. She was silent. Again, she reminded me of Lucas. Granted, being absent from a new job a month in—even for a few days—wasn’t the best career move for me either. But I’d find a way through this.

  I took hold of Cassie’s elbow and forced her to turn and face me. My thumb massaged the spot where her pulse beat, but her muscles remained stiff under my touch. I pulled her aside. I didn’t want anyone to witness what I was about to say.

  We returned to where we’d met earlier, right by the stage. Her guitar still stood against the wall. It was much quieter now. Most of the action was taking place in the temporary bar area.

  “Cass, what about I fly first thing tomorrow to Kansas City? You’d only need to stay a couple of extra days, see Will in Vegas, and—”

  “—Stop right there, Joshua!” She raised her right hand like a stop sign. “What you’re trying to do is real nice and I appreciate it. But I’m flying tomorrow morning with you.”

  “Come on, Cass,” I pleaded, “don’t throw this chance away. We’re a team now, you and me, let me take care of it for a couple of days and—”

  “—Take care of it? It is a little five-year-old boy whose world has vanished in a puff of smoke.”

  Cass shuffled on her feet, curling and un-curling her fists. She exhaled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you.” Her gaze hardened though and her eyes pierced mine. “We always want the best for each other, Josh, but this isn’t about us. It should neve
r have been about us. It should always have been about Lucas.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Was Cassie more important to me than my son?

  “Cassie, I know how much you love singing—”

  “—and I love Lucas much, much more. In fact, the two can’t even be compared. We’re flying to Kansas City tomorrow morning. I can be back on the tour before mid-week if they still want me.”

  I lowered my forehead against hers. “Okay, Cass. Let’s fly together.”

  I walked her back to the bar area. Shawn hadn’t moved but the girl had come back to hang at his side.

  “What’s the plan?” he asked straight to Cassie.

  “I’m sorry, Shawn, but I have to be in Missouri tomorrow.”

  The guy nodded but his mouth twisted in disapproval. “Listen, I don’t know shit about kids and being a parent. What I know though is how hard it is to break through in this industry.”

  Cassie let my hand go and stepped toward Shawn. “I know that but—“

  “—Do you, Cassie?” He put his bottle on the table. “Because you sure don’t act like it. You’ve been lucky to get on a tour without having to beg for it. Now you might get to record a song of yours with a top label and you decide not to show up?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “We always have a choice, babe. Look, that whole ‘one chance in a lifetime’ thing probably seems a bit naïve, except this guy, Will?, he doesn’t give a second chance. I don’t like that about him, but his record speaks for himself. Don’t think for a minute that making it in the music industry doesn’t come at a cost.”

  I was about to step in but Cassie’s chin lifted. I had to let her fight her own battles. “Giving up on my son when he needs me isn’t a price I’m ready to pay.”

  Shawn nodded again but his gaze softened. “Then you made your choice.” He wrapped his arm around the girl’s shoulders and dragged her away from where we stood. “I’ll try and cover for you in front of Terry and Will. But get your ass back on the tour ASAP. In music, it’s not like in love, you don’t often get sweet seconds.”

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, I asked, “You still want to go, Cass?”

  “Nothing will make me change my mind.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Cassie

  I hadn’t been allowed to see Lucas.

  We made it to Kansas City mid-afternoon on Sunday. In the end, there hadn’t been any seats left on the early morning flight. When we landed in Missouri, I called Trisha again. She called Sharon Sorenson.

  Sharon told her Josh and I would have to wait until Monday afternoon to see our son, after he finished kindergarten. Trisha blurted the word ‘routine’ five times on that damn call.

  I wasn’t totally delusional. I knew I didn’t know much—or anything—about raising a child. Yet. But what I did know was that my boy wasn’t too young or too dumb to know that his grandfather was gone for good. What I also knew was that he needed a friend to talk it through with. And I was pretty much the only one left from his previous life.

  “Be nice to Mrs. Sorenson,” Josh warned me again.

  He was right to say so. I’d used a lot of words to describe her over the past twenty-four hours. None fit my new proper-speaking code. I mumbled back an ‘of course’ and crossed my arms over my chest.

  But I’d get my son back one way or another. Sooner rather than later.

  Sharon Sorenson opened the door. Josh went all P.R. on her and she mellowed. There was even the shadow of a smile when she let us in.

  “He’s in the kitchen.”

  Not on his own though. I recognized the neighbor, Andrea Loretti. She was pouring batter into a muffin pan. Holy Moly, did this woman ever do anything else but bake muffins?

  Lucas’s mouth was twisted the way it always did when he concentrated, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly from the corner. I guess Mrs. Loretti was keeping him busy. That was good.

  “Hi, Lucas,” Josh broke the ritual.

  Both Mrs. Loretti and Lucas jumped at his greeting. My gaze turned to Lucas to see if there were any signs of grief on his face. His cheeks were as round and pink as usual. He gave no sign of being upset until his mouth shaped into a silent ‘oh’ and his chin start to quiver.

  “Cassie,” he cried out, but his voice broke.

  Lucas jumped down from the seat he’d been standing on. He rushed between the table and Mrs. Loretti and crashed into me. I missed a breath—and then another—not because of the shock of his little body pounding against me. His pain had become my pain. I was a kid all over again. A kid whose mom had gone AWOL. A kid who’d never been on the receiving end of anything but neglect and abuse.

  I knelt down and locked him in my arms. His little arms were wrapped around my neck. Their hold on me tightened as if I was a lifejacket floating on the waves and he was drowning.

  “Trisha said you’d come, but I wasn’t sure.” His voice trembled and his breath tickled my skin. His words had only been for me. Knowing that, my love for him took root even deeper down inside my heart.

  Something shifted within me. I became Lucas’ mom. Not the one who’d carried him in her belly, or the one who’d given birth to him one June day five years ago. Not even the one who’d watched him grow up from afar. I became—I was—his mother, the one person who had the power to chase the clouds away and bring the blue sky back into his life.

  My hands cupped the sides of his head so that I could look him in the eyes. “I’m here, Lucas. We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

  He shook his head. “But Grandpa’s dead.”

  “I kn—”

  “What did we say, sweetie pie?” The term of endearment clashed with Sorenson’s arctic voice.

  Lucas snuggled back against me. I stood but kept him wrapped around me, his head pressed against my stomach.

  “What did we say?” Lucas didn’t answer, so Mrs. Sorenson got on with her sermon, “If we don’t say the D-word, it’ll help feeling better.”

  What sort of BS was this?

  “But Grandpa is dead,” Lucas shouted back. “He’s dead like Mommy and Daddy.”

  He buried his face against me, tension pulsing through him. I massaged his shoulders, stroked the back of his head, repeating little shushing sounds. His arms circled my waist with a strength beyond that I’d expected from a five-year-old.

  I was grateful Mrs. Sorenson kept her mouth shut. It was safer that way. Andrea Loretti stared at Lucas while she kept kneading the material of her apron. If only one of her muffins could make it all better.

  “I think you’re angry,” Josh sliced into the heavy silence. He turned around one of the kitchen chairs and sat astride it, his eyes level with Lucas. “You’re sad, of course, but you’re angry because you feel like someone has stolen your grandpa away from you.” Lucas’s head nodded against me. “Do you know what I do when I feel like I want to scream in anger? I play football.”

  Lucas moved away from me. He wasn’t saying anything though, so Josh continued: “Do you still have the ball Cassie gave you, the Rangers one?”

  “In the shed.” His voice was guarded. “In the garden.”

  “Should we go and get it then?” Josh extended his hand. I expected Lucas to clam up again. Instead he placed his little hand in Josh’s and, without a word, followed his lead into the backyard. If there was ever anything to say about sports as therapy, it was right now.

  I headed toward the garden to join them but stopped at the glass door. They were stepping out from the shed, Lucas running with the ball. His arm was arched above his head preparing to throw it. His face was still empty of any expression, but he was moving, exercising, working some of the grief out of his system. It was good. It was healthy, wasn’t it?

  “I’d planned to make some chocolate chip cookies.”

  I’d forgotten I wasn’t alone. I looked over my shoulder at Mrs. Loretti. She had one of those kind chubby faces that warm you.

&nbs
p; “I guess nothing beats football when it comes to guys.” I wanted to make her feel better because she’d tried to help Lucas.

  She kept on mixing the batter like there was no tomorrow. The woman was nervous. Was it because of me?

  “It’s very sweet of you, Mrs. Loretti. Each time I come around you’re baking something nice for my—for Lucas.”

  “Please call me Andrea.” She dismissed my comment with a shrug. “Baking is pretty much the only thing I do properly.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. And besides, it takes a lot of skill to bake. I couldn’t even do that to save my life.”

  I take it Andrea was a card-carrying member of the Fragile Ego Club. I had a lifetime membership too. I made my way back to the rectangular table next to which she stood.

  “I have some housework to do. Andrea, you can stay if you want,” Mrs. Sorenson offered. “I wouldn’t say no to one of your chocolate chip cookies.” The woman left the room with what could almost be a smile.

  “You’ve got to share your secret with me,” I said, while my eyes welcomed the sight of Sharon Sorenson walking away.

  “What secret?”

  “You made her smile.”

  Andrea covered a chuckle with her hand. “She’s not that bad,” she whispered as if we were naughty schoolgirls winging about their teacher. “Maybe not affectionate enough, but she takes good care of him. Good food, good routine.”

  “You know a lot about kids. I mean, what’s a good routine, baking….”

  “I come from a big family. Two brothers, three sisters. I’m the oldest. So I’ve changed my share of diapers.”

  I’d been my mom’s only child, but I’d often wondered if the man who’d fathered me had other kids too. Maybe I had a large family somewhere. I kicked that thought in the butt: The only family I had—and would ever have—was playing ball in the backyard. “Will you go to the funeral?”

  Andrea shuddered. “Mr. Guidi’s?” I nodded. “I’m not sure. I never had the chance to meet him.”

  “You should come. He’d have loved you. He was crazy about Lucas and anyone who was nice to his grandson would earn serious brownie points.” My voice struggled over the last words. My teary gaze hunted some invisible stain on the stark white of the kitchen wall. Damn, I was going to miss him.